


A Life Worth Living

by Stasia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stasia/pseuds/Stasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiding isn't all it's cracked up to be.  Theodore Nott comes out of hiding into a world he didn't expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life Worth Living

“Hey, Tad, the Prius owner is here.”

The tall, stringy man bent over the engine of the dirty car in the corner stood up and nodded. “Thanks, Nate,” he called. “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute, all right?” His partner waved in acknowledgement, and went back through the door leading to the front office. “I’ll be right back,” Tad muttered to the engine parts strewn about the car he was working on. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He walked through the door, wiping his hands on a rag. Looking around the office, he could spot the owner of the Prius immediately. Not just because she and his other mechanic were the only two people in the room, but because he knew that she’d be the type to own a hybrid car.

“Miss Granger?” he asked. When she nodded, looking apprehensive, he continued quickly. “I’m Tad Nott. There’s nothing much wrong with your car. I just wanted to tell you what we had to do.”

She looked at him curiously for a moment, then shook her head as if dismissing something. “Oh, thank you,” she began, “I was quite upset yesterday when it just stopped like that. I’m so glad that I broke down right here in front of your shop.” She leaned familiarly on his counter. “So, what was wrong with the beast?”

He began explaining the breakdown, and his repair work, keeping an eye on her face as he spoke. She seemed to understand most of what he was saying, but that was like her. He’d bet that she’d gone home after the car had broken down and read books on internal combustion engines until three in the morning.

After he’d finished the explanation, she nodded her understanding. “I see. Well, that sounds like you did everything that needed to be done. Thank you very much. How much do I owe you for the work?” Her head was tilted down as she rummaged in her purse to find her chequebook and he could see that her hair was tamer than it had been when she was younger, but not by much.

He quoted her a figure that was much lower than his usual one, ignoring Nate’s gasp behind him. She grinned over at him and signed the cheque with a flourish.

“Thanks again,” she called over her shoulder as she slipped into the driver’s seat of the car. “I’m terribly grateful.”

He watched her drive away, then turned and walked back into the gloom of his workshop.

~*~

He was surprised, several weeks later, to see her again. This time she was sitting in one of the town’s cafés, eating lunch with a young boy. He was surprised by the stab of jealousy he felt. It wasn’t as if she’d been banging down doors to get to know him or any of his friends in school, and he’d made his choices after school knowingly. He just was surprised that the kid’s hair wasn’t brown like hers, or red. He’d never imagined her having a blond kid.

She and her son were sitting several tables over, at the table in the window. It was late, so the lunch crowd had gone and they were the only people in the place. If he listened very carefully, he could hear what they were saying.

“I think you’ll like it there,” she said, brightly. “It’s quite nice and there are many other children just like you. I’m sure you’ll make friends right away.”

The boy’s face was sceptical, and he poked at his lunch with his fork. “They’ll already have friends,” he muttered.

Tad could see the compassion on the woman’s face, but she quickly hid it as the boy looked up at her. “Well, they might, but I know they’ll want to be friends with you.”

“You don’t really know that.” His voice was flat.

She leaned forward and lifted his chin. “I know one little boy who’s already looking forward to meeting you. He’s about your age, and he’s hoping you’ll be interested in being friends with him. I told him that we’d be there tomorrow and he could meet you then.”

“What’s wrong with him?” the boy snapped.

Her eyebrows went up. “The same thing that’s wrong with you, actually.” Her voice was no sharper than before, and Tad wondered at her ability to stay calm in the face of such sullenness. He also wondered how she’d managed to have a child so quickly. He seemed awfully old, unless she’d started earlier than he thought she would have.

For no reason that he could think of, he stood up and walked between the empty tables to stand at theirs. She looked up at the movement, and he saw her eyes light up as she recognized him.

“Tad Nott, right? From a month ago? You fixed my car!” She was smiling up at him, face bright and eyes warm.

“Yep. How’s it running?” Tad could kill himself. What kind of a question is that to ask this woman? He shouldn’t have come over here to talk to her. It just reminded him too much of the past.

She leaned back in her chair. “Oh, it’s running very well. Smooth. I think the phrase is, it’s purring like a kitten?”

She turned to introduce him to the boy and drew in a sharp breath when she saw that he’d gone white. He was staring up at Tad with an expression of childlike horror on his face.

“Joshua? What’s wrong? This is Mr Nott, from the auto shop down the street.” She shot a curious look up at Tad and reached over to pull Joshua’s face towards hers. “What is it?”

“My older brother said that people who go into that shop disappear.” The kid’s voice was so low Tad almost couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Everyone says that.”

“Well,” her voice was crisp, “I can guarantee that story is false. I was in there twice, once to drop off my car and once to pick it up and I am very much still here.”

“It’s no problem,” Tad said quickly, half glad for the chance to escape. “I just wanted to know how the car was.” He backed up, knocking into a chair from another table.

As he walked away he turned and watched her hustle the kid into the car and drive off, in the direction out of town and towards London. He wondered where they were going and what she’d been doing in his little town.

~*~

She showed up again, two days later. He was in the back--head, shoulders and hips under a recalcitrant old Bentley, when Nate called out, “Hey, the bird with the Prius is here to see you.” Tad jumped and hit his head on the oil pan.

Grumbling, he pulled himself out from under the car and wiped at his forehead. He didn’t need Nate’s laughter to tell him that he still had a smudge on his face. “Damn,” he said, “what does she want now?”

After a quick few moments with the soap in the lav, he walked into the office. She was leaning against the counter, reading from a small book. For a long moment, he stood in the doorway, watching her, admiring the picture she made. Her hair was caught back into a tail, it’s wild curls cascading down her back. She wore comfortable looking blue jeans with a loose green tee-shirt tucked into them.

“You wanted me?” he asked.

She jumped slightly, then turned to him. “Yes, I did. I wanted to apologise for Joshua’s behaviour. I don’t know why he would believe that about you.”

“I’ve no idea,” he said. “How old is he?”

“He’s eight, and a little young for it, it seems. I really am sorry for how he acted. He’s been having a hard time lately. He was recently found to be,” she paused for a long moment, “ah, special needs. And he had difficulties at home because of it.”

Tad winced. Special needs? Is that what they’re calling it now? “Oh. Right. It’s not a problem. The local kids all tell that story. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.” He cocked his head. “I know you’re not from here, so how did your son hear the story?”

A startled laugh exploded from her. “My son? Oh, no. He’s…um…I work for an organisation that helps children with these special needs, and I was just here to pick him up. He’s going to a-“ She broke off. “Would you like to go to lunch with me? I’ll tell you about it, if you like. I feel silly standing here, and it’s about lunchtime. My treat.”

To his surprise, he wanted to go. “Sure,” he said, “let me just tell Nate.”

She smiled in response, and he felt himself blushing as he turned away.

~*~

Over the next few weeks he found himself having a regular lunch date with her once or twice a week. He was both pleased and confused by this. The two of them hadn’t had anything to do with each other previously; in fact, both of them, if they’d been asked when they were younger, would have said that they had nothing in common. They still didn’t have everything in common, but somehow the things they didn’t share were becoming the things that interested him about her.

He didn’t think she’d recognised him yet, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t know if he should tell her, or if he should continue to hold it back.

Some remnant of his old affiliations told him to keep his past close, as some sort of secret information to hold over her.

The parts of him that had become comfortable in his life the way he’d made it now told him to keep it secret because she’d make him go back to his old life, his old world, and that wouldn’t be as safe and comfortable as he was now.

Another part of him, the part that scared him the most, told him to tell her; that he should have told her right away, in fact, and that if he really wanted to live a good life, a life worth living, that he needed to accept who he had been as well as who he was choosing to be now. And, most importantly, that who he was choosing to be now was simply hiding from who he should be.

He had a headache.

~*~

They were meeting for dinner for the first time. He’d told her that they could meet at the restaurant, but she’d responded that it had been such a nice week, she’d like to walk. He wasn’t sure if this meant that she’d be driving to his house to meet him, or if she’d Apparate, and pretend to have left her car elsewhere in town.

He had noticed that she’d not really explained what it was she did for a living. She was willing to talk about her actual work, telling him stories of children she’d helped and families she’d met, but she steadfastly referred to the children as special needs. He guessed he couldn’t really blame her. She was passionate about her work; he remembered that passion from her many causes when they were younger. He was pleased to see that she hadn’t lost it in the ensuing years.

He turned to look down the street, watching cars pass on the busier main street, a block up from the large house he rented part of as a flat. Shifting from foot to foot as he waited, he wondered what had happened in her world in the years he’d missed. He thought about asking her, just telling her who he was and asking what had happened, and began to try to formulate his questions. Suddenly, a car’s headlights blinded him as it turned down his street and he sucked in a breath.

What was he thinking of? Why had he thought it would be a good idea to expose himself like that? He shook his head and fiercely shoved his curiosity down again. He’d chosen to live here, to be Tad Nott. I should never have agreed to meet her again. She just makes me uncomfortable and second guess myself.

The car that had turned down his street turned out to be her car. She pulled up in front of him, and hopped out. Her face was bright and happy, and she’d clearly dressed up. Her hair was drawn away from her face on both sides, and she’d found some pretty sparkly things to hold it back. She was wearing a dress for the first time since he’d re-met her, and its long skirt swirled around her ankles as she jumped up onto the kerb to meet him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long,” she chirped. “It was later than I realized before I could leave work. I rushed all the way over.”

He smiled at her, feeling desperate and confused. “No,” he said slowly, “not too long. I’ve been watching the view.”

She turned around, looking inquisitively for the view he’d mentioned. Her gaze passed over the cars passing and the dusk lowering around them. With a small smile, she said, “I like dusk. When I was little, I read a book that used the word ‘gloaming’, and after that I always called it that to myself.” She pinked a little, then held out her arm. “Shall we go?”

He nodded, taking her arm and starting to walk with her. She filled the time with chatter, telling him about how she’d spent the day and what the drive over had been like. When they’d made it to the smaller street with the restaurant on it, she turned to him.

“What’s wrong, Tad?” she asked. “You’ve been remarkably silent, even for you. Did something go wrong today?” She looked up at him, her brown eyes worried.

He took a deep breath. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just listening. You haven’t mentioned Joshua. How’s he doing?” He knew he was deliberately changing the subject, and from her sceptical expression, so did she, but she willingly went along the conversational path he’d chosen.

“Oh, he’s doing very well. I’d forgot that I hadn’t told you. Oh, thank you,” she broke off to say to the hostess as she brought them to their table. With a smile, she accepted the menu, and glanced at it while Tad seated himself. When he had finished looking his menu over, she closed hers with a snap and picked up where she’d left off.

“Joshua’s been adopted. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. You were there at the beginning, so to speak. He was only with us for a month or so before there was a family interested in him. He finally moved in with them to stay for good…ah,” she paused and he could see her counting in her head, “a week ago. You should have seen him. He was so happy.”

“Adopted?” Tad was surprised to find himself a little angry. She’d not said anything about the kid needing to be adopted. What had happened out there?

She looked at him, brows pulled together. “Why, sure. He’d been having trouble at home, you know, due to his,” she shifted in her chair, straightening her skirt, “special needs. So his birth family didn’t…wasn’t able to take care of him.” She said this earnestly, but he could see that she was upset.

“Tried to beat the magic out of him, did they?” He could hear the grim sound in his voice, and for a moment he thought her surprised expression was because he sounded so angry. After a second he realized exactly what he’d said and cringed. Well, that blew everything to hell and back.

“Tad?” She sat back, pressed against the chair back as if she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. “Tad…Nott…?” As he watched, he saw her make the connection. Her face went chalky and her hands tightened around her utensils until her knuckles were whiter than the tablecloth.

“No, no, it’s… I’m Theo, but not, I mean—“ The waitress came, interrupting his anxious speech, and asked if they were ready to order.

She still looked panicked, so Theo lifted his menu and said, keeping his eyes on her wide eyes, “I’d like the lamb, with roast potatoes.” He lowered his menu. “Hermione? What would you like for dinner?”

Her body changed, becoming less tense and more relaxed and she turned to the waitress, “I think I’ll have the salmon, with carrots and courgettes, please. Oh, and may I have a glass of white wine?” Smiling, she handed the two menus to the waitress and watched her walk towards another table. Then she turned back to Theo and he jerked back at the menace he saw in her eyes.

“Theodore Nott.” Her voice was flat and cold and he couldn’t help but compare it to the happier tones from earlier in the evening. “You’ve been missing for several years now. I guess I can see why we couldn’t find you.” She looked around the restaurant, but he could tell that she was really seeing the backwater town he’d ended up in.

“I,” he gulped, “I didn’t know where else to go.” He pulled back, both from the table and the horrifyingly naked admission. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, steadying breath. She doesn’t want to know this. He lowered his voice. “I chose to come here. I am Tad now; I haven’t heard the name Theo in several years.” He felt proud that his voice had stabilized and that he sounded calm. He kept his hands in his lap, his fingers clutching at his knees.

Her lips curved into a hard smile. “You haven’t? Well, let’s see if we can change that. Theodore Nott, the Ministry has placed you on the list of Missing and Possibly Dangerous Wizards. You are, when found, immediately ordered to appear at the Central Ministry Office in London at your earliest convenience, which you are to understand is as soon as possible. As the witch who found you, I am responsible for ensuring your attendance at the Ministry.” Her voice was flat and hard. “You will be required to turn in your wand and submit both it and yourself for magical testing.”

“I don’t have my wand,” he interrupted, in an urgent whisper. “And keep your voice down. People will hear you and I have to live here.”

Her brows pulled together, and for the first time since he’d made that horrible slip, he saw the woman he’d been beginning to know. “Don’t have your wand?” she asked. Then his new friend disappeared beneath the harsh angry mask again.

“You will need to come with me to the Ministry, tonight. After that, you will be taken to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and they will determine your future.” She glanced up at the waitress, who’d been hovering, eyes wide, holding their entrees. Hermione smiled up at her. “Oh, we’re just rehearsing for a play. Does it sound authentic?”

The woman’s body relaxed, and she chuckled. “You certainly sounded real to me. Here’s your salmon,” she turned to Theo and placed his plate in front of him. “And your lamb. I hope everything is okay. And that play sounds real exciting.” With a quick smile at the two of them, she walked towards the kitchen.

Theo stared down at his meal, his stomach churning. How could he eat anything now? “What happened, Hermione? Who won?”

She paused in her eating. He wondered how she could be so calm, sitting there eating her courgettes as if nothing had changed. “Oh, no, Theo, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait. The Ministry will decide what is appropriate for you to know.” As she turned back to her plate, he caught a glimpse of shadows in her eyes.

With a deep breath, he picked up his knife and fork and began to eat.

~*~

The Ministry held him for five days. He told them everything; that he had chosen to become Muggle rather than choose sides in the war itself, that he’d seen no benefit to being on either side of the conflict, that he was not and had never been a Death Eater. At first there’d been a flurry of activity, with questions thrown at him and various potions and truth spells used, but as it became more and more obvious that he really was what he’d said he was, the official interest in him died down. He hadn’t seen Hermione since she dropped him off at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He found himself, on the sixth day, his old wand in hand, on the streets of Diagon with nowhere to go. He’d expected to feel odd, out of place in his Muggle clothes, but he saw that many of the people on the street weren’t wearing robes either. Moving slowly, he walked down into the bustling crowd.

The Wizarding world was prospering. All the shopfronts were rented, and each store seemed busy. He passed the Quidditch supply shop and saw that they’d new brooms again. There were clouds of children clustered in front of the windows, chattering excitedly about the broom and who might be flying it. Past there, he could see into Flourish and Blott’s-there seemed to be a display of shivering books in the window. He shook his head. Maybe something on earthquakes, or cold spells.

After so many years away from it all, he was overwhelmed by the activity and oddities. He felt a deeper understanding now and sympathy with the confusion of parents of Muggleborn witches and wizards. This world really was, well, not wrong, but unsettling.

He settled down into a chair outside of Fortescue’s, and leaned back into the wrought iron chair. He shifted his arms, uncomfortable with a wand in his hand after so long, and finally set the wand on the table. A voice at his elbow made him jump.

“Would you like to order something? We have sandwiches now, as well as desserts.” The speaker was a young witch dressed in casual Muggle clothes and holding an order tablet.

For a moment, Theo thought about ordering something, just to have the opportunity to stay out of the crowd, but he knew he couldn’t.

He sighed and stood, picking up his wand and holding it loosely. “Oh, no, thank you.” He didn’t recognise her and he wondered how old she was. “I’ve nothing but Muggle money right now.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she said in a bright tone, “Florean’s son’s working here now and he’s got an exchange thing going with Gringott’s. Most of the retailers do, actually. So, sit down. What would you like?”

He sank back down into the chair, feeling more adrift than ever. “Ah. Turkey, if you have it, and tea. Thank you.” She nodded, made a quick note on the pad and sprung back into the restaurant.

He shook his head. They’re taking Muggle money now? What happened here?

The investigators and Aurors who had interrogated him hadn’t been willing to answer any of his questions. They’d let him, after he’d asked several times and they’d double checked with the Head of the Auror Division, call Nate at the Auto Shop and ask him to cover while he, Tad, was dealing with a sudden family emergency. Nate had assumed a death in the family, and Theo had made non-committal noises, hoping that the death wouldn’t be his in the end.

Even after the interrogations, all of his questions had remained un-answered, and he was beginning to think that he should just leave them that way. Maybe it’s time to go home.

The sandwich was delicious. He ate it and watched the people walking by, listening to scraps of conversation from passing groups.

“Theo? Theo Nott?” He almost didn’t realise that someone was calling out to him, and snapped his head around to see who was calling him. Working his way through the large group of children that looked like a school group with several harried adults herding them, was a tall, slender black man dressed in dark, fitted Unspeakables robes worn open over Muggle jeans and a long sleeved jersey shirt.

“Blaise?” Theo was startled to hear how shaky his voice sounded. “Blaise, is that you?”

By then Blaise was on him, arms around him, pounding his back enthusiastically.

“Theo! I thought you were dead. It’s so great to see you! Hermione says you’ve got some auto place or something?” Blaise hugged him hard one last time, then fell into the other wrought iron chair at the table.

Theo sat back down slowly, feeling dazed. “You’ve seen Hermione?”

Blaise’s eyes lit and he began laughing. “Oh, so that’s how it is. I get it.” He waved a hand at the waitress and asked her for a sandwich just like Theo’s and could he please have something cold to drink. Theo watched as she dimpled and hurried off to fill the order. Blaise had stopped laughing by the time he turned back to Theo. “She’s at work now, over at Harry’s. How about you? How have you been doing?”

Theo sat back and shook his head. “I don’t know how I’ve been doing. I feel like I don’t know anything at all.” He watched for a moment as Blaise took a huge bite of the sandwich. “Things are so different.”

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’ll bet. You left, when? Halfway through our seventh year? We all thought that you’d gone to join up, but I never saw you at any of the meetings.”

Theo felt his skin begin to crawl. Blaise joined the Death Eaters? He shifted back in his chair, trying to put more distance between them.

Blaise continued, without seeming to notice Theo’s discomfort. “Anyway, Harry and the Order were pretty much hanging on by a thread for most of the year and I was pretty pleased to have picked the right side. It didn’t last, though. Soon enough, the Order was beating us back left and right and,” he broke off to take a long swallow of his drink. “Eventually, Harry won. As he should have. By the end there, Voldemort was getting more dangerous to his followers than to anyone else.” He smirked at Theo. “You look a little tense there. Not what you expected?”

Theo shook his head, feeling even more adrift. “You, ah, you were a Death Eater?” He whispered the last two words, feeling an almost physical need to not say them aloud.

Blaise chuckled. “Yes, I was. Then, I followed in Deputy Headmaster Snape’s illustrious footsteps and became a spy.” He raised an eyebrow at Theo’s sudden sucked in breath. “You really haven’t kept up with anything, have you?”

Theo shook his head again, with his mouth open slightly. “I—I thought that I was well and truly out of the whole thing, actually. I never thought I’d be coming back.”

Blaise looked at him, spending a long moment studying him and Theo tried to not look as anxious as he felt. “How about we discuss this at your house, then,” said Blaise in a softer voice. “It’s a long story and we can take as long as we like for it there, instead of staying here and having Samantha keep trying to get us to order some ice cream.” He grinned past Theo and Theo turned to see the waitress blushing.

~*~

Theo was surprised how much more relaxed he felt as soon as he left Diagon Alley. He could still feel Blaise watching him, but he couldn’t hide the way his body shifted into calmer lines.

“So,” said Blaise, hands tucked into the pockets of the dark overcoat he’d transfigured his robes into, “where to?”

Theo led the way to a Tube entrance and the two men plunged into its cool depths. Several hours later, after a change of trains and a short walk, Theo unlocked the door to his flat and paused. This would be the first time he’d had anyone Wizarding in. He lost a quick, anguished moment wishing for his old peaceful life back, then opened the door all the way to allow Blaise entry.

Blaise walked in carefully. It had got dark while they were travelling, and the flat was partly in shadow as the moon sent fingers through the half drawn blinds. Theo shut the door behind himself and reached to turn on the light. He stood at the door, feeling awkward and unsettled, then he deliberately walked forward, passing Blaise and going into the kitchen.

Blaise looked at everything, wandering around from room to room, picking things up and putting them down. He seemed eagerly curious about the things he saw, running his fingers over the spines of the books Theo had and saying their names half-aloud.

“Everything will have gone over in the fridge,” Theo muttered. “I hope you don’t want milk in your tea.” He turned to Blaise, who’d finally followed him. Blaise’s eloquent shrug answered his question and he poured the hot water into the teapot.

“Nice place,” Blaise said, as he blew on his tea. Theo shot him a look, but didn’t see anything but honest appreciation on his guest’s face.

Blaise wandered to look out the window over the kitchen sink. “The view must be nice, during the day. This window looks south, doesn’t it?”

Theo nodded, frustrated with his own inability to speak. He wasn’t in trouble, the MLE’s had released him so why wasn’t he asking more questions? “What happened?” Alright, he hadn’t meant to ask that question.

Blaise turned to him, looking sombre. “As I said, it’s a long story. I’ll try to just give you the highlights.” He moved back to the small table in the kitchen and sat down. “I guess it started before you left, but you know that part. After you left, well, nothing much changed at first. Things still went on, we still went to classes and pretended that everything was normal. Whatever normal was, by that point.” Theo felt Blaise's eyes on him as he sank down into the chair across the table.

“I left a little while after you, expecting to see you, actually, after I was Marked. I never knew why I didn’t, and I learned very early to not ask questions about where other people were.” He gave Theo a tilted smile, then continued. “There were very few actual battles, you know, big things where people could see. Even Voldemort didn’t want to bring the whole attention of the Muggles down on us, not then. At one of the first larger battles, not my first one, I was injured. Left for dead, in fact.” He placed a hand on his ribs, and stroked slightly. “I remember the cold, and I remember being kicked and turned over. I’d lain there all night, and the sun was coming up over the trees. I remember thinking that I was seeing fires burning—what I’d seen was new sunlight on Weasley red hair.” His voice had gone soft and almost dreamlike as he thought back.

“I couldn’t speak by then; I felt frozen and dead. I remember her voice, calling to someone, saying that she’d found someone alive but he was Marked. The next thing I saw was Harry’s face, those eyes,” he glanced over at Theo, staring in dismay, “you know his eyes have always been shocking. He said, ‘Save him, Ginny. You’ve got to save him.’ I remember her voice going shrill as she asked him why she should save someone Dark, and I wanted to cry. Harry just told her ‘He’s the only thing human on this field, Ginny, and we can’t let that die.’” Blaise tilted his head back. “I still don’t understand how he could have done that. I wouldn’t have. Voldemort wouldn’t have. How could he just—“ He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Theo sat transfixed. He’d no idea that things like this were happening, although he knew that if he had allowed himself to think past the shield he’d put up just before he made the decision to run away from everything he would have known exactly what was going to happen. That, in fact, knowing this was what had made him decide to leave. To run.

The two men sat in silence for a long time after that.

Gradually, Theo felt his shoulders relax and he slumped back into his chair. “My story is much less exciting. I—I guess if I’m honest, I saw what was going to happen and I didn’t want to be part of it at all. I couldn’t see any way to stay out of it. I thought and thought about it, and finally gave up. My father,” Theo shivered, “my father was so deep into things that I couldn’t go to him and ask, and my mother was dead. I just packed up everything I could into a school bag, and grabbed the Knight Bus in Hogsmeade after everyone else had gone back to the castle.”

Blaise leaned forward in his seat, his eyes curious, and kept them fixed closely on Theo’s. “What next?”

“I went to Diagon and pulled as much gold as I could carry out of our vault in Gringott’s. I left my wand in the vault so that my father wouldn’t blame anyone else. Then I found the smallest town I could find on the train line and went there. I spent some time living in small bedsits, trying to think of what to do when I saw the autoshop go up for sale. I offered on it and asked the owner to train me.” Theo grinned at an old memory. “He must have thought I was the village idiot. I fumbled so many things…”

Blaise nodded, looking interested. “What kinds of things?”

~*~

Theo spent the next few weeks catching up on the work that had piled up while he was at the Ministry. Nate had done some, keeping the basic stuff going, but the books were hellish and the bigger work had been put off until he got back. He was just glad he had got back, after all.

He spent some of his time thinking about Hermione. At first he composed several angry letters, screaming at her that he’d have explained if she’d just given him time and that she should have trusted him. He left them in a pile on his kitchen table, stirring them and letting them simmer. After a while, he realised that he was more angry at himself for not telling her sooner, for not being brave enough to take the chance. When he got home on the night he figured that out, he chucked all the letters and stood staring out the kitchen window, wondering where she was.

~*~

Theo stood, at the end of another long day and stretched, twisting from side to side, feeling his lower back crack and release. This Bentley would have to wait until the next day to get finished. It was time to go home. He washed his hands and ran his wet fingers through his hair, slicking it back away from his face. Pulling on his favorite green trainer jacket, he stepped out of the shop and turned to lock up behind himself.

“Hey,” came a soft voice behind him.

He jumped and turned, almost falling. “Hermione,” he said, his voice cracking. She was sitting on the hood of her car, across the street from his shop. With a slight smile, and a soaring heart, he slipped one hand into his pocket and strode through the shadows of the past to her.

 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Odyssey01, in Tarie’s Illustrated Ficcish Wish Fulfillment Swap


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